Hit and Run
by flitcwick
Summary: "Assassin. (n) Definition; a murderer, esp one who kills a prominent political figure." Wrong. Annabeth has never killed a prominent political figure. No, instead she's left with the terrorists, physcos, serial killers etc. People the world are better without. Percy Jackson isn't exactly an axe murderer but he's on her boss's list. And who is Annabeth to refuse her boss? Percabeth
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_The thunder and lightning outside seemed to mirror the scene within the warehouse. Burly men donned in black scanned the perimeter; dusty light bulbs flickered, and occasionally, dimmed. The heavy patter of rain was the only sound Percy could hear, as he blinked the blood out of his eyes. The scene was a familiar occurrence; Percy strapped down, doomed for death, interrogated to the inch of life, and then suddenly, he bites back, miraculously finding an escape while the building erupts in flames. Or at least, that's how it went in his head. Too many concussions led to too many mixed memories._

_The man who was interrogating him had black intricate tattoos running down the length of his arm. Percy had noticed the large scythe engraved on his shoulder the moment he set eyes him. It wasn't exactly hard to miss. It was gold and dripping with blood, surrounded by a circle of bright red and orange flames. The man himself was less morbid than the tattoo. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, and a face that probably would've looked mischievous if it were any other circumstance. The guy looked like he had aged 30 years in one day, and his handsome face was marred by an ugly pale scar._

_Smack._

_Percy's head reeled and stars burst behind his eyes. His mouth filled with blood and his eyes watered. His wrists and ankles were red raw from the friction of the too tight rope and his muscles tensed against them uncomfortably. The man gripped Percy's hair and pulled it so they were face to face._

_"You gonna tell me where Chase is now Jackson?" he sneered._

_"In your wildest dreams, Luke" Percy snarled._

_Luke looked slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. He glared hatefully at Percy._

_"How'd you find out my name?" he asked, suspiciously._

_"Magic,"_

_"I'm warning you Jackson-"_

_Percy grinned smugly._

_"You still have your Kmart nametag on." He told him, and reveled in how Luke's face turned cherry red. Luke snapped the name tag off his tshirt quickly and stuffed it into his pocket. He then glanced up at Percy and threw his fist back to bestow another blow upon him_

_"Leave him,"_

_The voice was clear yet low, and (annoyingly) coming from behind Percy. It was as smooth as velvet, but held no warmth. Luke recoiled immediately and backed away from the chair and into a table. He eyed the man suspiciously, and Percy yearned to look behind him, but he was still feigning coolness. He tried to make himself look as comfortable as possible, an easy grin donned on his bloody face._

_"So," he started. His usual tactic was to be as annoying as possible, which for some reason, hardly ever worked, but still irritated the crap out of his 'hosts'. "I finally get to meet Kronos, right?"_

_Luke stiffened, and glanced at Percy reproachfully._

_"I'd be careful if I were you," he warned, and Percy involuntarily got chills. "Names have power."_

_"Silence, Luke," Kronos hissed, and Luke flinched._

_Percy's ears strained to hear where the man was, but Kronos was probably light as a feather because Percy didn't hear a footstep._

_"Boo," came a voice from beside his ear and it took Percy all his will not to jump. He grinned cheekily and turned to face his capture._

_"Hey babe," he said and smacked his lips flirtatiously. Kronos looked at him distastefully before turning away. He walked over to a table where metal appliances gleamed maliciously. His back was to Percy when he spoke again._

_"So, Mr Jackson," Kronos began casually, picking something shiny from the table. Percy identified it immediately as a hand clasp iron fist. Not fun to be punched with. Kronos slid the thing onto his finger and looked over his shoulder at Percy. "Be a good boy and tell us where Miss Chase is. That is," he added mockingly, spinning around and walking up to Percy's chair, "if you don't mind."_

_"Oh I do mind," Percy replied, not even bothering to conceal the bite from his voice. He hated being patronised, especially when he was tied up and couldn't knock the patroniser senseless._

_Kronos looked down on him sceptically before he shook his head sadly._

_A second later, a fist knocked into his head. The pain was momentous and Percy felt as if he was being punched by a god. Everything went black or a moment or two, as if the world was in a continuous spin. When his vision returned, Percy noticed it was rimmed with tears and there was a loud buzzing in his ear. He also saw that Kronos was sitting in a stool across from Percy. He must've been out for more than a moment. He spat a tooth and tried his best for a grin, but instead it came out like a grimace._

_"Is that," he coughed, "the best you got, old man?"_

_Kronos grabbed the back of his torn shirt and yanked it up so his chair balanced on its two front legs and Percy was staring Kronos in the eye._

_"I'll give you one last chance, Jackson. Where is Chase?"_

_"I see you dropped the Mr and Miss-"_

_"Where is she?" he roared_

_Percy spat blood in Kronos' face as a reply._

_Kronos stood up, and took a handkerchief from his front pocket. He wiped the spit from his face slowly, and threw the handkerchief in a bin. He walked over to the table once more._

_"Oh Percy," he said softly, "I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this."_

_He tapped his chin thoughtfully before reaching down and picking up a knife and a wrench. Percy envisioned thousands of scenarios in the blink of an eye, and lets just say none of them were happy._

_"Well," Kronos looked over at Percy, his golden eyes twinkling viciously. "Shall we begin?"_


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! sorry i didn't say anything in the prologue but you know how it is. Anyways, these characters don't belong to me, but the storyline does so don't plagarise? I'm sorry, I don't know how to end that sentence, but you get the gist**

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><p>The first thing Annabeth had noticed when she saw Percy Jackson for the first time was his eyes. Alert, bright and a serene shade of sea-green, there was no doubt that they were gorgeous. After the initial attraction of his eyes, Annabeth noted that they gleamed with mischief, which was a pet peeve of hers. She then looked at the rest of his face. He was smiling widely at the camera, which was odd considering it was a mugshot, and she noticed one of his teeth was chipped. He had messy black hair that Annabeth longed to drag a comb through and laugh lines around his eyes. His skin had a healthy fisherman's tan.<p>

"Why do you want him?" she asked her boss, eyes trained on the photograph before her. She studied it thoroughly, taking note of everything about his face, from the shape of his eyebrows to the curve of his lip. She couldn't help think that Jackson was handsome, but that was irrelevant. The CHB wanted him down, so he was going to go down, whether Annabeth thought he was pretty or not.

"Because he's on our Most Wanted list," Chiron said simply, handing her Jackson's file. She hadn't expected anything more from him, the CHB was an organization filled with secrecy. The world's best spies were trained there and no one knew everything that was going on around the organization except Director D. Even his top spies (a.k.a. the Cabin 12's) never knew all of the CHB's on-goings.

Annabeth frowned slightly as she read through his file.

"The only crimes of significance that he committed are a couple blown up highschools from about eight years ago," she pointed out. "His most recent crime was drinking in public." A delinquent was hardly worth her time, Chiron could toss the case to any amateur and there were better things to do with Annabeth's time.

"That's all on that is listed on the Police record," Chiron retorted, wheeling his chair from around his desk. "However, Mr Jackson is a bit more pesky than what meets the eye."

"Yeah, he looks it," Annabeth muttered, glancing down at the photo. Anyone who kept their hair in the state Jackson had it in was automatically on Annabeth's list.

"He's a confirmed mercenary," Chiron continued. "With more than 50 kills he-"

"50 kills?" Annabeth spluttered. She held up the photo at Chiron's eye level and shook it in his face. "This buffoon killed 50 people? That's-"

"A feat to rival your own," Chiron interrupted, "Yes, I can understand why you're surprised Annabeth. You are one of our best and have received crucial training. Which makes us wonder what training Mr Jackson himself, has received."

"You want me to retrieve the information?" she asked briskly. She wondered whether she would need her knife collection or to withdraw the information using brute force.

"We want to you neutralize Jackson before he can assassinate anyone else," he corrected. "The information can be found by other means."

"So where is he?" she inquired.

"Antibes, France," he replied. "We have obtained data that he arrived in the town last night, though we are in the dark of what he's doing there. But we have reason to suspect that his business is terminating billionaire Micheal Dare, who will arrive in Antibes with his wife and daughter tomorrow. As CEO of Dare Enterprises, and known as a _'wildlife murderer'_, to put it crudely, Mr Dare is certain to have some enemies. We need you to stop him before he can kill anyone else. Your plane to Nice leaves at nine."

Annabeth nodded in acceptance and turned to leave Chiron's office, Jackson's file still clenched in one hand.

"Annabeth," Chiron called when she was at the door and she turned her head.

"Do not underestimate Mr Jackson," Chiron warned. "He may seem harmless in that picture but please tread carefully. The last thing we need is for you buried six feet under."

Annabeth nodded again, this time slower. Chiron rarely ever cautioned her before a mission and Annabeth felt a trickle of fear. It wasn't as if she hadn't faced people like Jackson before, right? She dealt with the worst of the worst and she could probably finish Jackson in his sleep.

She left Chiron's office, lost in thought, and nearly bumped into Thalia on her way to the armory.

"Woah there, owlhead," Thalia laughed. Annabeth and Thalia went way back. They were childhood friends, even though Thalia was five years her senior. They went to the same highschool, training centre and joined the same CHB quarters together after. Thalia was in Cabin 10, one Cabin below Annabeth, but was the CHB's best marksman. She co-lead a group within the CHB dedicated to teaching agents how to shoot correctly, and was often gone on a mission with her partner Artemis.

Thalia's smile slid off her face as she studied her friend.

"Who pissed in your cereal?" she asked, falling into step with Annabeth. The joke earned a bark of laughter from Annabeth, a reference to the fact that Thalia had once urinated in someones breakfast before serving to them as an act of revenge.

"It's nothing really," Annabeth smiled, realising it was stupid to worry about Jackson. He was hardly worth losing sleep over, it was just another case.

"Oh yeah?" Thalia asked, raising an eyebrow. "Cause if one of the Stoll's challenged you to another prank war, you know I got your back."

Annabeth pushed Thalia playfully.

"Nah, it's just a case I've been given. The guy I'm supposed to take down is apparently a master assassin or something so it's gonna be tough. To be honest, I'm just annoyed that I'm going to be missing New Girl this week."

Thalia grinned and shrugged.

"I'll send you the episode via email," the older girl promised. "Besides, it'll more than likely just be some weird sexual tension between Nick and Jess."

Annabeth laughed and Thalia slung one arm around her shoulder.

"Besides, I'm sure you'll kick this guy's ass, no matter who he is."

They arrived at the armory then, and Annabeth said goodbye to Thalia. She looked at the long wall of different weapons, and decided that she'd pick out her dagger first.

There was no competition really. The Fairbairn Sykes was practically made for her and she picked out a new, shiny one from the wall. She tested it's weight, sharpness and strength before sliding it into the concealed holster in her boot. The boots were specifically designed in a way that Annabeth could reach down quickly and grab her dagger without delay and that it wouldn't interfere with her leg movement. It also had grips on the sole and were almost impossible to distinguish from normal boots. She had six different pairs, all with the same purpose but different styles. She also had jeans and jackets with the same holster attached, and others with room for a small handgun.

Annabeth now took it upon herself to pick two guns that were to be on her at all times. She chose a P-3AT pistol and a Ruger LCP 380. She also took a taser, just in case. She then selected the M107 sniper rifle and packed it into a sealed case with it's ammo and stand. She wanted a clean death with Jackson.

She turned to leave, before something caught her eye. A gold Grecian dagger lay on a dusty cabinet across the room. Annabeth didn't realise she had approached it until she was picking the weapon up. It fit perfectly in her hand, and was roughly the length of her forearm. Every rational part of her brain told her to leave the knife alone, but for once, Annabeth didn't listen to rationality and slid the dagger in a holster she found lying beside it.

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><p>She rode home on her motorcycle and began packing. The bare minimum was a necessity, so Annabeth packed two spare changes of clothes, underwear, toiletries into a rucksack she got at Target. She also packed a sleek dress and some heels. It was best to be prepared, in case she had to meet Jackson in a bar first then bring him back to the hotel to confront him.<p>

Someone knocked on the door, and after waiting for her "come in" Jason stuck his head in.

"Hey Annabeth," he grinned and closed the door behind him. Jason was her cousin on her mothers side. Since Annabeth's mother and father divorced, Jason and her were never close in their earlier years, and hardly ever seen each other. Two years after Annabeth graduated high-school however she moved to New York to be closer to the CHB headquarters. Thalia had moved in with her boyfriend Luke in New Jersey, and offered her a room, but Annabeth declined and began apartment hunting. One of the people looking for a roommate was Jason, and when he and Annabeth met in an interview, he asked her to move in right away. Over time, they became close friends, though Annabeth hadn't told him about the CHB.

"Hey," she said, smiling warmly. She subtly moved her gun case under her bed with her foot.

"Packing, huh?" he noted, stuffing his hand in his pocket. "Another architect convention?"

She nodded and felt a pang of guilt. She hated lying to him, but what else could she do? Tell him she had been training as an assassin since she was seven and was now working for a secret organization? She would like to see how that conversation would go down.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't tell you sooner." she said, sitting down on the bed and pulling her knees close. "I completely forgot. I'm leaving for Athens tonight."

He frowned slightly.

"Didn't you go to Athens last time?" he asked and Annabeth's heart froze. Shit, she did. How could she be so careless to forget that?

"Yeah, this is a different one though." she brushed off.

"Alright," Jason mumbled, forehead still creased. "How long will you be gone for?"

Annabeth shrugged.

"Dunno, but probably nothing more than a few days."

"Cool," he said and scratched the back of his neck. "You wanna go get some lunch with Pipes and I? We're leaving now."

Annabeth hesitated. Her plane didn't leave for several hours and she was finished packing. Surely some quality time with her two of best friends wouldn't hurt? Plus, it might ease Jason's suspicions a bit.

"Sure," she jumped off the bed and followed him out of the room. Piper was waiting in the living room, watching TV. She was probably the prettiest girl Annabeth had ever seen, though downplayed her looks. With luscious brown hair that was cut sloppily and braided unevenly, gorgeous eyes and clear brown skin, she was stunning.

"Annabeth!" She hopped up from the sofa and hugged Annabeth fiercely. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Katie Gardner's party" she recalled, returning the hug before pulling away. "That was the best New Years party I've been to."

"Same," Piper laughed. Annabeth suddenly remembered the reason why she hadn't seen Piper in months.

"How was prison?" Annabeth asked innocently and Piper smacked her playfully.

"Oh shut up,"

"Hey, it wasn't me who decided to steal a car!"

"You know well I was framed!"

But Annabeth was too busy laughing to hear her. Piper was protesting loudly, and Annabeth was certain she heard Jason chuckling as well before Piper hit him. Piper was a kleptomaniac, or so everyone thought. She had once drunkenly told Annabeth that her pursuit of thieving was really an in vain attempt to get her famous father's attention. All it had brought though was her father spending a ton of money to keep the media silent and to reduce Piper's sentences.

After she calmed down, they left the apartment, bantering and chatting as they made their way to a cafe on 23rd street.

"So, Annabeth," Piper started, her kaleidoscope eyes gleaming mischievously. The trio were sat in a corner of the cafe and were looking at the menus the waiter left for them. "Any romances?"

Jason leaned forward in his seat almost as curious as Piper was.

Annabeth snorted.

"I haven't had a relationship since Clovis, and you guys know how that went."

Both Piper and Jason flinched, remembering that disaster.

"True," Jason started, "But not everyone will be as bad as Clovis. He was exceptionally bad."

"I for one don't know what you were thinking," Piper declared and Annabeth laughed.

"Neither do I," she told them truthfully.

Just then, the waiter came back, and they ordered their food.

"And Jason's right," Piper said, "for once," she added, and Jason opened his mouth to object, but she shushed him quickly.

"Clovis was terrible, but move on. Go out on a couple dates! There's this cute guy I know, Leo-"

"Piper, I know Leo and no,"

"Damn," Piper muttered. "It was worth a shot."

"Can we just get back to eating?" Annabeth asked pointedly. "I'd rather eat now than have to stomach the terrible airplane food."

The rest of the afternoon was spent hanging out and watching TV with Piper and Jason. It was a nice change and Annabeth sometimes wished that her life consisted more of this and less of killing people. But life wasn't a wish granting factory and she had a job to do.

At half seven she said goodbye to Piper and Jason, giving them both a hug and promises that she'll get them a souvenir from Athens. She declined Jason's offer to drive her in his car and told him she was going to get a taxi. He shrugged but Annabeth could still tell he was a bit more suspicious about her line of work than before.

Annabeth went into her room to retrieve her luggage, and looked around to see if she forgot anything. A book on her nightstand caught her eye and she bit her lip. It was The Poetics of Space by Gaston Bachelard, a novel she read countless times yet failed to find boring. Its spine was worn, its cover faded and its pages ripped, and she only got it for her birthday last year. She came to a quick decision and stuffed it into her rucksack. She could always spare time for architecture after Jackson was dead

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><p><strong>I'll try and update every month, but that will rarely happen. But this story won't be abandoned, even if it takes me a year to update (hopefully it won't)<strong>


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